Taang Week 2013
by Katiebunchesofoats
Summary: Regret. Balance. Manners. Family. Tattoos. Lies. Realization
1. Day One: Regret

**Sup guys? I am oober excited to be participating in Taang Week this year! My first Taang Week ever was last year (it was actually Taang Thursdays, but same difference), but last year I didn't participate in every single day. This year, I plan to write a oneshot for each of the seven days! Are you ready?!**

**I hope you enjoy my oneshots! And happy Taang Week!**

* * *

**Day One: Regret **

Beneath her smooth sloped nose, Toph grins her usual grin, the one that's full of snark but still kind in some distant way. Her teeth are straight and white - as they always have been – as she feigns nonchalance, but Aang notices the way they grind together when she shifts her weight on the small hospital bed. The room she'd been assigned in the hospital wing of Bumi's castle is rather small, but still larger than most of the others. Aang had been surprised to find out that Bumi has a whole hospital in his castle, but he eventually reasoned that with all the bending practice Bumi does, using his much less experienced guards as sparring partners during such practice sessions, a hospital must have become necessary.

"I'm telling you," Toph insists for the umpteenth time, her cheek twitching and revealing her discomfort again. "It doesn't even hurt that much."

Standing a few feet away, Aang closes his eyes tightly and runs a hand over his fuzzy hair that now covers his head like a peach. He hasn't given himself ample time to shave recently, not that he would have been able to anyway, being that he hasn't left the hospital wing since Toph checked into it.

"You're ankle is shattered," he reminds her. "Thanks to me," he mumbles into the collar of his tunic, ashamed. He peaks up to look from Toph's impassive expression to her hospital robe-covered torso. Her legs disappear under a plain beige blanket, but he knows what is hidden beneath: her left ankle, barely sprained and wrapped in a simple bandage, and her right ankle, broken and tied securely into a splint. Aang had spoken to the doctor earlier that morning and confirmed what he had already guessed: Toph won't be able to put weight on her right ankle for weeks, which will leave her dependent on other people for just about everything, and he knows firsthand how much she hates that. Not to mention that fact that earthbending will be totally out of the question until her ankle is fully healed.

It's his fault she's hurt. He'd do anything to go back in time and prevent her injuries.

Toph snorts suddenly and Aang jumps, pulling his head up from its hiding spot beneath his collar. "Quit the self-pity, Aang," she almost barks, his real name resounding through the room as she spats it out. "So you got a little crazy during our spar? So what? I'm the one that wasn't paying attention."

"You can't _see _Toph!" He argues forcefully.

"You know what I mean!" She fires back. "And I can probably 'see' better than anyone with working eyes can; you know that!"

"I know!" He yells back, now with his head lowered so he can glower into her cloudy eyes. Toph scowls at him, her lips curled. Aang holds her gaze for as long as he can, but eventually sighs, releasing a lot of hot air. "I know," he repeats much more calmly. His shoulders lose their tension and he releases opens his hands, not even having noticed that he'd balled his hands into fists. "But it _is_ my fault."

Aang thinks back to their most recent bending battle. It was supposed to be earthbending only, but Aang had been becoming frustrated. He had thought that he'd trained enough to at least stand a chance against Toph, but in the past few months they'd spent apart it had appeared that Toph had gotten even better whilst Aang's skilled had regressed. He remembers lying on the ground, bruised and close to being beaten, when something in him snapped. Toph had raised a perch for herself, nearly thirty feet high, so she could smash a barrage of stone down at him and finish the match. Before she could, though, Aang rose himself up even higher and swung his leg around, kicking nearly gale-force winds her way. She couldn't see him, so she had no idea. Aang didn't realize he'd gone too far until he heard her bones crack upon contact with the ground. The worst thing, though, was flying down to her after the fact and seeing her teeth gritted as she tried not to move her awkwardly bent ankle, all the while telling him that it she was fine, that it barely even hurt. He remembers the lines of clean skin running from her eyes to her jaw where silent tears had washed the dust away.

The two of them sit in silence for what couldn't have been two minutes but felt like two hours. Toph considers his words and purses her lips; perhaps she's reliving the event in her head as well. Aang opens his mouth to speak again, but she's faster.

"Maybe it is," Toph says emotionlessly, making Aang flinch. "But," she adds quickly. "The only one angry with you _is_ you," she reminds him. "Have I yelled at you about it once since then? Hit you because of it?"

Well, she _had_ yelled at him, but not pertaining to the incident. As for the hitting, Aang hasn't stood close enough to her bed for her to get a good whack at him, so he supposes she's right. "…No," he admits. "You haven't."

Her lips form an off-center smirk. "That's what I thought," she says. "Besides, I've come back from worse than this. You remember that time Zuko burnt _both_ my feet?"

The memory loosens Aang's tight frown. "Yeah. You weren't angry with him either." He smiles at her, but his lips are still closed. Maybe he does regret what he did, but there's nothing he can do to change the past. Besides, if Toph isn't angry at him for what happened, what use is it to sit around and hate himself while he could be making up for his actions?

Toph smiles wider at his understanding. "Good." She wiggles her shoulders to sink deeper into the collection of pillows stacked behind her back. Sighing, she rests her hands behind her head after shooing him away with one bent palm. "Now go be a good slave and get me something to eat; if I'm going to be stuck in bed for a couple weeks I'm sure as hell going to enjoy myself." Eyes closed, she allows her smirk to burst into a grin. "And if you're worrying about how you'll make this up to me, don't; you'll pay your dues, _trust me_."

This time Aang smiles with all of his teeth bared. As usual, Toph is one step ahead of him.

* * *

**Let me know what you think of my writing! **

**-Katiebunchesofoats**


	2. Day Two: Balance

**Here's day two!**

**I forgot a disclaimer earlier, so here it is now: I do not, in any way, own any part of Avatar: The Last Airbender.**

* * *

**_Day Two: Balance_**

More often than not, being that his life usually moves faster than he could ever comprehend, Aang finds it difficult to breath under all of his daily pressures.

Between meetings, country rebuilding, the ever-present Fire Nation rebels, his duty to restore the Air Nomads, and many, _**many **_other things, he barely even has time to think. He is almost always on the move, whether it be to a different continent or the next town over. Over the years, he has settled too many border disputes to count, cleared enough rubble to build another Great Wall with, and signed enough treaties to make even scrawling his name a complete chore.

It's a good thing he doesn't grow his hair out; he'd have pulled it out by its roots by now.

And as if the work load itself isn't enough, Aang as a person will never even consider taking a day off. His friends would show concern, ask him to take a nap or a walk, or even just to put the blasted pen down and sign the rest of the treaties later, but he would never hear of it. "I'm the Avatar," he'd say, his eyes heavy and framed with exhaustion and his scruffy jaw left unshaven. "I took 100 years off from the world already; the worst thing I can do now is take a two hour cat nap."

However, there is but one person that can coax him out of his stringent, work-centric shell. She would come, looking not only to pull him away from his work but to escape her own as well.

It wouldn't take her many words, and sometimes it took absolutely none at all. Just a silent smirk as she faces him from her seat on the railing of his balcony, her bare feet swinging and her bangs swaying with the wind. Often, he would sense her there without seeing her, almost as if he could tell when her heartbeat is within fifteen feet of his own. Sometimes her light fragrance would blow in with the breeze that disturb his papers, and he would barely even think before almost flying over his desk and to the balcony to follow her on whatever devilish path she had in store for him.

But after a few hours away, typically after their adrenaline rush has passed and the fun had been finished, leaving them just sitting atop a building somewhere, he'd start to feel bad about leaving. He'd wonder if he'd angered any of the officials or offended the nobles. She'd laugh at him mid-fret though, then remind him that those same officials and nobles had been telling him just that morning to take a load off.

"This_ is _that load off," she would say. "You need to keep both halves of your life at equilibrium, Twinkletoes. Working too hard is never good for you, and neither is being completely ignorant to your duties." She'd raise her finger to the sky, smirk, and point that same finger at him as she winked one of her unnecessarily beautiful eyes. "Balance is the key."

Relieved, Aang would allow himself to spend just a few more hours outside of his constricting life as the Avatar. Eventually, though, he'd have to go back, and another one of his few and far between escapes from reality would come to an end, but not before a quick brushing of their lips that would never be spoken of again. His gaze would then linger on her back as she turned away and shimmied down the side of the building until she reached the balcony of her bedroom, just one floor down and three rooms to the right.

After she had been gone from his sight for longer than a while, he'd tear his gaze away from where she'd been and place it on the sky. Sighing, he would wonder if their relationship would ever escalate past their typical "hit and run." Maybe it would, someday, after all of the treaties are signed and all of her metalbenders have been properly trained. At that point, perhaps, he could risk tipping life's stubborn scales.

Until then, balance is the key.

* * *

**See you tomorrow for Day 3: Manners. Until then, feedback would be lovely :)**

**-Katiebunchesofoats**


	3. Day Three: Manners

**I'm baaa**_**aaaa**_**cccckkk. Sorry about taking so long, but whatever deity living in the heavens above decided, for some reason, to let me have a social life last weekend. Because of my absence, I made this oneshot longer than it would have been had it been on time. I will post the rest of the belated oneshot as this week goes on, one a day every day, until I get through all of them.**

* * *

_**Day 3: Manners**_

He trails his eyes over the lacy orange curtain, the fabric's varying spectrum of hot colors making it seem to be engulfed in flames. The blood red carpet beneath his feet completes the look of an upside down torch. Framing the curtains are smoky grey, hand-chiseled marble vases filled with exploding bouquets of dark and light blue, white, and even some silver flowers.

When his eyes have reached his own black and gold-booted feet, a small hand has grasped the crook of his elbow. Aang shifts his gaze to the red-tipped white rose corsage strapped to her pale wrist. With his eyes he traces her bare, toned arm up to the jut of her shoulder blades, the curve of her neck and the softness of her jaw and expression. Her hair is mostly done up, but some falls to frame her face in silky ringlets.

"You ready?" He asks, his spine straightening itself out and his posture improving on impulse, as it always does whenever she randomly materializes near him. A small smile conquers his lips and he raises his arm to accommodate her.

The slight gloss on her lips does nothing to belie the comfortingly normal quirkiness of her smirk. "As I'll ever be." Her spare hand moves to adjust the skirt of her pretty dress: a lovely, floor-length, layered sea of creamy whites, pale greens, and shimmering gold. The most ornate section of the dress is its collar, what with its intricate gold stitching interwoven into the jade fabric. The collar dips down low enough to expose her well-sculpted collarbone but not too low as to threaten her modesty.

Beyond the curtains, beneath the heavenly music, Aang can here the coos and appreciative chatter of the crowd as Suki and Sokka's daughter walks down the aisle, throwing flowers this way and that in preparation for the other members of the service that are to follow, such as Toph and himself and, later, the child's own aunt. When the noise fizzles out and the music grows a bit more hearty, he knows that they've been cued.

Apparently, Toph notices it as well. "Alright; let's get this blasted thing over with."

As they lead each other towards the curtain, Aang grins wider. "Spoken like a true maid of honor."

He opens the curtains enough for them to slip through, and the reaction is immediate.

Unlike the flower girl, their arrival is met with an awed hush that reverberates throughout the lovely decorated room. Not very surprisingly, most of the eyes are on Toph. Aang steals a glance to his right, and he sees why: she looks positively regal, what with her head held high as she floats upon her pride and the indescribable effect the soft lighting of the room has on her person.

As they walk, Aang catches the eyes of Katara's father, Hakoda. The older man gives him a slow nod and a knowing smirk, and Aang feels heat creep up his neck from beneath his collar. On the other side of the room, he sees but does not hear Iroh chuckle with amusement before winking pointedly. Now Aang is sure that his blood is burning beneath his skin, making his face a color almost akin to that of the carpet beneath his feet.

When their walk down the aisle is done, they part, Toph walking to the right to join Suki, and Aang turning to his left to stand in front of Sokka. Already on the altar, Zuko is watching the red curtains at the other end of the room expectantly, his fingers lacing and unlacing themselves together in anxiety. The bridal march soon begins to flow from the organist's slender fingers hitting the keys, and everyone in the room stands and turns to the back of the room.

Two hours and one of the most beautiful ceremonies Aang has ever witnessed later, it's time for the Fire Lord and Lady's wedding reception.

The soiree begins with a feast, but not before Iroh raises his glass in a toast to his nephew and his newest niece. The entire room holds their glasses high and uses their voices to reinforce the retired general's blessing.

After eating all of the best cuisine the Fire Nation and Water Tribe customs have to offer, the party is in full swing. Zuko and Katara are twirling about the center of the dance floor, giddy in the afterglow of their marriage and a bit from the alcohol they'd consumed during dinner. Nonetheless, they look exceptionally happy, so Aang decides to overlook their clumsy missteps and instead smile at their giddiness.

"You want to dance, don't you?" Aang turns away from the dance floor and back to the only other person still sitting at their rather large table; before, the entirety of Team Avatar along with their closest friends and relatives had been sitting there, but after they'd finished dinner they'd coupled up and scurried over to the floor. Now it's just him and Toph.

"You can go, if you want," she continues. In her hand is a hand-crafted glass filled with some bubbly, un-alcoholic drink. Her bewitching smirk is still played upon her mouth as she swirls her glass then takes another sip of her drink. "I'm sure you could get any single girl here to dance with you, no sweat."

Aang smiles half-heartedly and turns his body fully away from the dance floor and back to facing the table. He finds his own glass without taking his eyes off Toph and takes a long swig; he hadn't realized that his throat had become so dry. "Maybe so," he replies, his voice rumbling in his chest. "But that would leave you all alone, wouldn't it?"

He's used to this, their casual - yet almost flirtatious - back and forth. It's been going on for years; almost four, to be exact. When it started, Aang had been gangly and still mostly awkward and flighty, still a bit unadjusted to modern life even after having been out of his iceberg for three years. But now he's older, more mature, and a bit more sure of what he wants and what he needs to do to attain such things.

In response to his incredulous statement, Toph leans back in her chair and rocks herself a few times, still swirling her glass and keeping her blind gaze locked on him. "Who says I'd be alone?" She tips her head back and downs the remainder of the bubbling juice. "I could charm _some_ guy here into listening to me complain."

That makes Aang narrow his eyes. Of course, he knows this already. She could rope just about _any_ man here in, actually, with just a small smile and a tip of her head. And she must know this as well; she can sense heartbeats, for crying out loud.

Aang ignores her glib and shoots back with one of his own. "Oh," he replies as if the idea of another man taking his seat doesn't make his blood boil. "So you won't be dancing, then?"

Her confident wall crumbles just slightly. "I never said anything like that," Toph returns with cunning nonchalance. Then, as if to prove her earlier unspoken point, she raises her empty glass just high enough for one of the younger waiters to rush over and refill it for her and as her if she needs anything else, miss? She brushes him off, of course, but not before taking pleasure in Aang's noticeable bristling as he bores holes in the retreating waiter's back.

When he composes himself enough, Aang clears his throat and looks back at the frustrating and flustering paradox of a woman across from him. She really can't make anything easy for him, can she?

"So you can dance, then?" This causes her grin melt, making Aang's reappear. Toph can hear it on his voice as he continues, "I assumed that you couldn't, what with your…you know." He leans back and crosses his arms.

Her scowl deepens, so much so that it almost belies her appearance. Almost. "I hope, for your own safety, that you're referring to my height issues and nothing else," she growls brusquely. Her chair stops rocking and she leans her elbows on the table, just as her parents had probably spent years telling her _not_ to do. "And yes, I can dance, you Airhead."

The corners of Aang's mouth threaten to touch his earlobes. He's hit a nerve, sure, and she'll probably beat him for it later, but it gives him the perfect opportunity.

"I don't suppose that you'd like to put some of your endless amounts of money where your mouth is?" He's already standing with a hand stretched towards her from over the table.

Toph is quiet for a few seconds as she considers his words and current position before her. "You asking me to dance, Baldy?"

This makes Aang swallow hard. He could make things so many times simpler by just answering honestly, but, then again, where would the fun be in that?

Toph doesn't give him time to decide how to reply; by the time he's wetted his lips and opened his mouth, her calloused, delicate hand is resting on his, and his fingers curl under hers to hold on with more certainty as she stands up and rounds the table to stand at his side.

"Whoever trips up first owes the other a handful of silver pieces?" Toph whispers for his ears only as she trails her hand up his arm to catch the crook of his elbow as they walk to the floor.

She's scamming him, of course; what's a handful of silver pieces falling from her naturally small palm compared to one coming from his? Although, the fact that she made a bet that wouldn't hurt her pocket much if she lost means that she isn't 100% positive that she can win.

Aang leans down so his mouth is inches from her ear. "You're on," he replies, keeping his voice hushed as well, mainly because if Katara found out that they were betting, something she'd forbade them to do months ago, she'd sober up pretty quickly and chew them out for sure.

Once they are close to the center of the floor, Toph detaches herself from him and turns to face him. The music playing currently is jubilant but still calm, almost airy. Aang looks down at her silently, not feeling the need to say much of anything. Toph, of course, will not have it.

"Well…" She begins, impatient as always. "You gonna start this? Or would you rather be the girl?"

He responds by stepping closer and capturing her right hip and left hand in one fluid movement. "Follow my lead."

She tilts her head up as if to peer at him, but Aang knows by the blood roaring in his ears what she's really doing. Her free hand reaches up and firmly grasps his shoulder as she tightens her grip around his fingers. "We'll see."

The dance Aang has in mind is one that he hopes to throw Toph off with. Being a wealthy couple's daughter, she must have attended many formal parties and, with seismic sense, been able to feel the steps of the dancers and maybe even memorize them as she sat alone for hours on end, bored out of her young mind. That being said, though, Aang is certain that nothing could ever prepare her for what he has in mind: a traditional Air Nomad waltz. Aang had only once seen a couple perform the dance during one of the yearly meetings of the Air Monks and Nuns, but he had been so transfixed by their movements that he'd committed each of their steps to memory.

It begins with quick steps back and forth, up and down, making his robes and her dress fly about as if they were sweeping the floor. Toph keeps up remarkably well; better than him, at some points. Aang can feel the whispers of her vibrations on the floor as she moves her feet accordingly and he is left baffled. She may be as stubborn as the kingdom she was sired from, but she moves with the delicate grace of an air maiden.

He furrows his brows and shakes his head a bit to help refocus. He removes his hand from her hip and raises their still connected hands, spinning her under his arm. She catches him before he can spin her too many times, though, by bending her arm at the elbow and using his hand to pull herself into a steady position, making their faces inches apart. His pulse comes to a skidding halt and she feels it, leading to her smirk as she, using his arm, twirls herself once to step away from him and replaces her hand on his shoulder. Aang blinks, notices he's losing ground in not only their battle of wits but also a dilemma only he is aware of, and decides to pick up the pace a bit.

Over and over again, he crisscrosses his feet swiftly and deftly, keeping his weight on his toes and his elbows raised, but she is not easily tricked. He can feel her mirror each of his steps with ease, and as they move, the bottom of her dress flies up to reveal her clever feet, as bare as they are every day.

As they sway, up and down, back and forth, Toph flashes him a cocky look that he decides can only be teasing. When the dance he remembers calls for them to step closer together, he catches her muttering as she leans closer to his ear: "C'mon, Dancy-Pants;" she says, her breath a wonderful irritant to his sensitive skin. "You're going to have to do a lot better than this."

Aang catches her around the waist with his forearm before she can back away. "Watch me," he replies, smiling as her grin turns to a determined frown.

He uses his hand on her hip to turn her away from him, and she catches his shoulder to steady herself again. In the next step he lets go of her waist and her his shoulder, and they move so their backs are together, one pair of hands still joined. He raises his arms like a bird raising its wings in preparation for flight, and she quickly follows, their palms now flat against one another's, the contact as soft and light as down.

Turning his head so he can see her with one eye, Aang lowers his arm to wrap around her waist backwards, and one of her hands reaches back and grasps the robes above his heart. They pull away, joined by one hand still, and flow back together, like colliding leaves in the brisk autumn wind. The music ends abruptly, leaving them with barely any space between their bodies, their heavy breathing intermingling in the mere inches between their lips. That space is only just beginning to close when roaring applause sounds from all around them. Aang turns and Toph sets her feet firmly on the ground; neither one of them had noticed the growing crowd encircling them.

Politely squeezing between people, Katara rushes over them and instantly begins to gush. "That was amazing!" She practically squeals. "Where did the two of you learn to dance like that?"

Aang allows himself to detach one hand from Toph, but the one holding her hand simply slides down to lie, relaxed, next to his hip, her fingers still in his grasp. He smiles at Katara. "Actually, it's an ancient-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Toph interrupts, her hand giving his a squeeze. "Can we get back to our dancing, please? I have a bet to win!"

She realizes her slip up, but not until after Katara does. "What? You two aren't betting again, are you?" Her mother-bear instincts have kicked in, her hands on her hips and a disapproving glare on her face.

"Uhm, no?" Toph tries, an apologetic, awkward smile on her face. She senses Katara's growing anger, though, so she pulls on Aang's hand and starts pushing into the crowd. "C'mon, Aang; let's go!"

Katara is almost livid, but Toph has pulled them far enough into the sea of partygoers so they can avoid her incoming wrath. Aang apologizes as Toph pushes, giving sad shrugs to everyone he passes. It's only when they reach the one deserted corner of the floor that Toph's grip on his fingers lessens. At that point, not many people in the room are still interested in them any longer.

When the last pair of eyes turns away, Aang sets him and Toph back up for a second dance, but only for a simple, traditional Earth Kingdom waltz that either of them could do with an arm and a leg tied behind their backs.

"That was a bit rude," he comments cheekily, loud enough for only her ears, grateful that the music has begun anew and that he and Toph are no longer the center of attention.

She chuckles, then turns her face up to set her unsettling blind eyes on him. "Does it matter?" She asks, stepping closer to help finish what they'd started after being so rudely interrupted.

_No_, he rationalizes quickly, smiling as his eyes close slowly. _It really doesn't._

* * *

**See y'all tomorrow (hopefully). Life tends to take up a lot of my time, unfortunately. **

**Belated Day 4: Family is up next**

**-Katiebunchesofoats**


End file.
